


Have a Taste (I Want More)

by songsofthespring



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Fluff and Angst, Keith and Lance are dumb, Latino Lance (Voltron), M/M, Misunderstandings, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, klance, minimal appearances by the rest of the crew gonna have to change that in my next fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-24
Updated: 2016-07-24
Packaged: 2018-07-26 09:57:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7569745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/songsofthespring/pseuds/songsofthespring
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Keith has a problem: he's fallen in love with Lance. This is particularly troubling because he and Lance have been messing around in private, but Lance has made it obvious to Keith that this relationship is purely sexual. But Keith may not be able to hide his feelings from Lance for as long as he'd hoped.</p><p>Otherwise known as that fic where Keith pines and Lance and Keith are stupid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Have a Taste (I Want More)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic in the Voltron fandom! I had a lot of fun with this fic even if it turned out to be a lot longer than I first imagined. This is also my first time finishing and publishing smut! 
> 
> All the Spanish is translated in the end notes!

Keith probably should not be thinking “oh shit I'm so in love with Lance” at this particular moment in time. In fact, he'd picked the most awkward moment possible to confirm his feelings to himself.

“Ahh, ahh, _dios mío_ , Keith, so good, you’re so good,” Lance babbles. Keith looks up at him from his position between Lance’s legs. Lance’s eyes are wide, pupils completely dilated, and there’s a flush painted across his cheeks. Keith hums and Lance jerks, trying to buck his hips forward and catching himself too late to keep still. “Keith,” Lance gasps, “Oh, how the hell are you so good at this? Mmn. Don’t stop.”

The benefit, of course, of thinking about how he's completely screwed for falling in love with Lance right now is that Lance’s constant babbling during sex makes it very difficult to think about anything other then how obnoxious he's being. Keith is almost grateful to him for that. Almost.

Keith takes his mouth off of Lance’s cock with a pop. He raises an eyebrow sardonically and says, “I won’t stop if you would shut up for one moment.”

“Aww come on, Keith, you know I can’t help it. I’m a talker; that’s who I am!”

Keith rolls his eyes and stares at Lance. If he’s not going to shut up, then Keith isn’t giving him anything.

“Keiiiiith,” Lance whines, pathetically.

“Yes, Lance?” Keith smirks, knowing his response will irritate Lance further.

“I hate you,” Lance says, pouting, but mimes zipping his lips closed in acquiescence.

“Good boy,” Keith says, patting Lance’s thigh, but Lance immediately ruins things by snorting extremely loud.

“Oh my god did you really just say that?” Lance asks between high-pitched giggles. “Dude, why.”

“Okay, that’s it,” Keith grumbles, and sits up, searching around for his pants.

“Hey, hey, no, _ven aquí, cariño_ , don’t leave. I’ll be good, I promise.” Lance’s expression is contrite enough that Keith pauses, and Lance sits up to grab him around the waist and into a kiss.

Lance sucks at Keith’s lower lip, whispers, “Stay.”

Keith stays. In fact, he wakes up the next morning with his head pillowed beneath Lance’s chin and held in Lance’s arms. It’s moments like these that Keith wonders. Wonders if Lance might feel the same, if he might want more just as Keith does. Keith lays there, feeling the comforting rise and fall of Lance’s chest beneath his cheek a moment longer. Then he forces himself to slip out of Lance’s arms. Lance mumbles sleepy protest but Keith shushes him and slips out. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do, in these sorts of relationships.

\--

Keith thought he could handle this. He’d lived alone and an orphan for years so having any sort of relationship with another person _should_ have been enough for him. Keith has learned that his heart is greedy; once it has a taste, it wants more. And it _hurts_ , so badly it scares him sometimes. But Keith will not let what his heart wants control him, he at least knows better than that.

If Lance finds out that Keith wants more to their relationship, there is a distinct possibility that Keith will lose him as a friend. And that can’t happen. One, because it would put the fate of the universe in jeopardy if they couldn’t form Voltron because of Keith’s stupid feelings. And two, because if Keith’s heart hurts this much from longing now, it’s going to be a thousand times worse if he can’t even be Lance’s friend.

“Something on your mind buddy?” Lance asks, leaning over into Keith’s personal space. “You’ve been zoning out for, like, ever.”

“I’m fine,” Keith says, hoping his tone doesn’t sound as defensive to Lance as it does to his own ears.

Lance shrugs. “Whatever you say man. Another round?”

Keith nods. “Start training level five,” he says, and throws himself back into training. Training used to be a solitary activity, but one day Lance got bored and wandered in and ever since, it’s been something of a bonding activity for the two of them. At this point, training with Lance has become second nature. In the rush of shield, parry, feint, slash, Keith can ignore his troublesome feelings and focus solely on protecting himself and Lance from the gladiator.

They’ve grown accustomed to fighting together, and it shows. Keith is used to Lance’s movements now, can very nearly predict the timing of Lance’s shots. Keith clashes swords with the gladiator again and again, before Lance calls “Keith!”, Keith dodges out of the way, and Lance fires. The robot falls to its knees and Keith darts in again and dispatches it.

“That was awesome!” Lance crows. “We’re really getting good at this!”

Keith has to grin because Lance is right. They have improved, if only a little. “Yeah. We should probably up the difficulty tomorrow.”

Lance groans, pouting dramatically like a spoiled six-year-old. “It’s no fun when we do that. We always get our asses handed to us!”

“It’s the only way to improve,” Keith says, “Besides, we’re usually able to hold our own after a few days.”

“Easy for you to say,” Lance grumbles.

“You’re still pretty terrible at using your bayard, but you’re nowhere near as bad as you were,” Keith tells him, because it’s true. While his combat prowess is still pretty lacking compared to other members of the team, Lance has benefited a lot from his training sessions with Keith.

“Was that a compliment I hear?” Lance asks, flashing his signature shit eating grin. “You heard it here folks--Keith Kogane thinks I’m a crack shot.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Believe what you want, but I never said you were a crack shot.”

“Uh huh.” Lance says, drawing out his vowels obnoxiously. “I know Keith-speak now. You can’t fool me. That was obviously your sad attempt at a real compliment. It’s okay Keith. You can admit it.”

“Shut up,” Keith says, “I just told you the truth. You’re still awful, but not as terrible as you were before.”

Lance smiles and his eyes crinkle at the corners. Keith wants to die. “Hey. Thanks man. It means a lot, especially from you.”

Keith’s heart swoops in his chest. The stupid thing is, he knows what Lance means. To hear he’s improved from a better pilot and martial artist is bound to feel good. But Keith’s heart doesn’t listen to reason and only sings, _Lance likes getting complimented by me. Me, specifically._ He ends up smiling dopily back at Lance for several beats too long. Lance looks at him, looks at his smile, and Keith thinks, stupidly, that Lance is going to kiss him. But Lance never kisses him when they aren't in either his or Lance’s room. That's how this works.

“Right,” says Lance, clearing his throat. “I’m going to go grab some food. Um. Come by my room later?”

“Sure,” Keith says and watches Lance hightail it out of the room.

This time they'd managed probably about forty-five minutes of training. When they first started this, Lance would sulk and quit early, but recently, they'd managed to have solid two hour blocks because they'd get so into training they'd lose track of time.

Ever since they've started this...thing between them, though, or maybe even a little before then, Lance can't stand to be around him for that long, and their training time together has gotten progressively shorter. Lance always has an excuse for running off early, but Keith knows better.

He grits his teeth and throws himself back into training.

\--

Despite the fact that Keith is positive this is only about casual blowjobs and not anything more, Lance is surprisingly tactile and sweet, even when the other Paladins are around. Keith tries not to react much, because they're supposed to keep this between themselves, but dammit, he doesn't know how he’s supposed to respond when they're walking side by side after a mission and Lance throws an arm around Keith’s shoulders, casual as you please. Keith stares at him in confusion at of the corner of his eye but Lance doesn't seem to notice.

“Hey, we worked together pretty well today, huh?” Lance says, smiling. It's true; they really had made a good team on this particular mission. When there was a surprise attack from a small fleet of Galra warships, Lance and Keith had been separated from the others. They ended up back to back in their lions, fending off enemy fire and watching each other's backs until the others could get to them so they could form Voltron.

“Yeah,” says Keith, because he can't deny that he had felt in sync with Lance out there today.

“Like, we were awesome. Did you see that one ship that I froze and you blew up? That was. The coolest.”

“Yeah I saw it. I was there,” Keith replies flatly. “But, it was pretty cool.”

Lance’s smile widens. “Hey Keith, victory fist bump!” He removes his arm from across Keith’s shoulders and holds out his fist.

Keith stares at it, confused. He’s not stupid; he can infer what a fist bump is, but it takes a second of thinking, and that second is all that's required to set Lance off. Before Keith even moves to touch his fist to Lance’s, Lance gasps dramatically.

“Dude! Oh my god! Do you not know what a fist bump is?”

“I can guess,” says Keith, praying Lance isn't going to make this weirder than it already is.

“Okay, okay, give me your hand,” Lance says, and then impatiently snatches Keith’s hand before Keith has a chance to do more than raise his hand a little in Lance’s direction. Lance carefully folds each of Keith’s fingers into a fist, his touch light. He clears his throat, then adds, “So, you make a fist, and then you just tap my fist.” He holds out his hand for Keith to tap and Keith does.

Lance tsks. “No man, that was wimpy. Put some force behind it.”

Keith pulls back his fist for a harder bump and Lance’s eyes widen comically. “Woah, okay, no, not that hard. It's not supposed to hurt. It's supposed to be, I don't know, firm, like a stuffy business dude’s handshake except cooler and exclusively used by bros.”

“Bros?” Keith echoes, heart sinking. Somehow, he doesn't think bros and potential boyfriends can fall under the same category.

“Yeah! Like me and Hunk! We’re the best of bros! I'm initiating you into the circle of bro life! You should be honored!”

“Yeah okay,” Keith mumbles, quietly. Lance’s expression becomes concerned but before he can say anything, Shiro arrives, having caught up with the two of them, and places a hand on Keith’s shoulder.

“Hey you two. Great work today. It's good to see you two learning how to work well together.”

“Yeah,” says Pidge, appearing at Shiro’s side. “I never thought I'd see the day where you two would actually become an effective team.”

“Hey!” Lance cries, offended. “I'll have you know that Keith and I are tight. Isn't that right Keith?”

“Um.” Keith glances at Lance, trying to convey with his eyes that he has no idea how to respond to this. It's true, yes, that he and Lance are closer now that they were when they started Team Voltron, and Keith is willing to admit that freely, but Lance had been pretty clear when they started messing around that he didn't want the other Paladins to know.

“Oooh, stone cold.” Pidge crows, grinning.

“Come on Keith! We’re buddies, right?”

“Yeah,” says Keith, “yeah we’re friends,” but his heart isn't in the words, because although he considers Lance a friend, he does, he wants more. And it's growing more and more apparent that Lance doesn't.

\--

“Heads or tails Keith.”

“This is stupid,” Keith says, glaring at Lance, but Lance is apparently determined to continue with this ridiculous plan. Despite the fact that they’ve been messing around for months at this point, they’ve never actually had penetrative sex. They’d been nearly there, today, except, then it became a competition over who got to top. Lance’s stupid solution to this problem was a coin toss.

“Come on Keith, heads or tails?”

“Heads,” Keith says, at last. Lance flips the coin. A curious expression comes over Lance’s face. He looks constipated, frankly, but somehow, it’s also cute. God, Keith is in too deep.

“Oh. Um. Okay. It’s heads. Uh, wait, I forget, does that mean you bottom or top?”

“Idiot, it obviously means I top,” Keith says, “That’s the whole reason we did this stupid coin toss. Because _you_ kept flipping us over.”

“And then you flipped _me_ over! What was I supposed to do, not flip back?”

“Yes!” Keith says, and brackets Lance with his arms. “Do you have some sort of issue?”

“What? No,” Lance says, face flushing. “I just--I’ve never done this that way, is all.”

“Oh,” Keith says. “We don’t have to.”

“No, fuck you, it’s fine. Just.” Lance turns his head away.

“I won’t hurt you,” Keith says, and presses a kiss to the side of Lance’s neck where he’d left a hickey earlier. Lance shivers.

“Yes, right, okay,” Lance babbles, as Keith kisses his way down Lance’s body. His hips jerk and he gasps when Keith sucks a mark onto his hip bone.

“Relax,” Keith mutters against Lance’s skin. “If you’re too freaked out, this isn’t going to work.”

“Shut up,” Lance says. It’s a weak comeback, even for him.

Keith pauses and lifts his head to meet Lance’s eyes. “Lance?”

“Y-Yeah?”

“Do you trust me?”

“Yeah,” Lance breathes, “yeah, Keith, I do.”

“Okay, then trust me on this,” Keith says, “I’m not going to hurt you. You need to relax and let me do this.”

Lance nods, takes a deep breath. “Okay. I’m good. Go ahead.”

Despite the brave face he’s putting on, Keith can tell Lance is still nervous. His hands are in fists at his side, and he flinches a little when Keith strokes down his thighs. Keith frowns. This calls for desperate measures.

His hands skate up Lance’s side. Lance’s eyes widen. “No--” he gasps, but it’s too late. Keith initiates operation “make Lance relax” and Lance is immediately giggling, kicking his legs.

“No, no, Keith, stop! _¡Por favor no mas!_ I can’t--” A giggle escapes, “--this is unfair and awful and I hate you so much right now!”

Keith grins and leans in to blow a raspberry just above Lance’s belly button. Lance shrieks.

“Keiiith, no! _¡Alguien ayúdeme!_ I’m being attacked! Police!”

Keith laughs, amused by Lance’s desperate attempts to evade his touch. Lance freezes and stares at him, bug eyed.

“You laughed!” He says, stupidly.

“Yeah. I did. Problem?”

“No, no, no problem, opposite of a problem,” Lance babbles. He smiles. “You should do it more often.”

Oh. “Idiot,” he mumbles. “You have to actually be funny to get me to laugh.”

“Wow rude!” Lance says, pouting obnoxiously.

There’s a beat of silence in which Keith stares at Lance and Lance shifts nervously beneath him. Then Lance says, “Are we doing this or what?”

“Yeah,” Keith tells him, “We’re doing this.”

Keith scrambles for the supplies they need, which have gotten buried in the sheets, and recovers the lube and the condoms.

Lance whimpers when Keith slides a lubed-up finger into him. Lance slaps his hands over his mouth, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” Keith tells him, “It’s going to feel weird at first. Just give me a minute.”

Lance nods, biting his lip, no doubt in an attempt to keep himself from making more noises.

Keith eases Lance open as slowly as he can manage, first one finger, then two, watching Lance’s face carefully. When Keith finds Lance’s prostate, Lance gasps, so loud Keith thinks he must have been holding his breath. Keith adds a third finger and rubs the spot again, and Lance’s hips jerk, and he moans Keith’s name. Keith’s cock twitches against his thigh.

“Shh,” says Keith, “relax.”

“I’m relaxed, I’m so relaxed, like the most relaxed a guy can ever be, kind of relaxed,” Lance babbles, and Keith strokes his prostate again to shut him up before he removes his fingers.

Lance whines and then turns bright red.

Keith laughs, not unkindly. “I’m going to put it in,” he says, once he’s secured a condom and slicked himself up.

“Okay, yeah, sure, that’s great,” Lance says, his eyes wide, pupils completely blown. His eyes are nearly more black than blue at this point.

“Fuck,” Keith moans, as he presses in. It’s a struggle to keep himself from bottoming out immediately, but he’s conscious of Lance’s inexperience, and he keeps his pace as slow as he can manage.

Lance is equally overwhelmed, hands clutching at the sheets. He keeps gasping “ah, ah, ah,” over and over, and it should be obnoxious, but it’s incredibly attractive right now.

“Okay?” Keith asks, when he’s pressed all the way in.

“Uh huh,” Lance replies, sounding dazed. Keith leans in to kiss him and Lance returns the kiss eagerly, if a little sloppily.

“I’m going to move,” says Keith.

Lance nods, firmly.

At first, it’s awkward. The angle isn’t right, and Keith is either too slow or too jerky. Keith is torn between his desire to fuck Lance into oblivion and his desire to not hurt Lance, to make this feel good for him. Lance reaches up to tug at Keith’s hair and says, “Just do it like you want to already!”

Then it’s easier. Keith lifts Lance’s legs over his shoulders, and Lance gives him a quizzical look, but when Keith starts rocking into him, gaining rhythm and speed, Lance moans, “Oh, _sí, sí, sí,_ like that, just like that!” He’s writhing like a mad thing, trying to meet Keith halfway, while also clutching at Keith’s hair like a lifeline. He keeps chanting in Spanish, “ _Más, por favor, dame más!”_ Keith does not speak Spanish, but he can guess what that means. It’s not hard, when Lance looks so blissed out and eager.

Keith leans down to kiss Lance and Lance rocks up to meet him. It’s a terrible kiss on both their ends, wet and sloppy, but Keith doesn’t mind because Lance moans into his mouth, moans Keith’s name with the vowels drawn out in a whine, and Lance’s hips buck and his legs shudder and Keith realizes that Lance is coming all over Keith’s chest. Keith reaches down and strokes him through it, relishing the feeling of Lance shuddering apart beneath him.

“ _Dios,_ ” Lance gasps between pants for breath. “Keith, wow. That was. Wow.”

Keith laughs, more of a breathy chuckle than anything.

“How are you?” Lance asks, “Are you--?”

“I’m fine,” says Keith, but Lance can probably feel that Keith hasn’t come yet. “Let me just--”

He starts to pull out, but Lance says, “Hey, wait, no. You can just. Keep going.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Keith says, “you’re bound to be sensitive.”

“It’s fine,” Lance says, shaking his head. “Go ahead. I. I want you to.” Keith’s dick twitches with interest and Lance grins. “Come on,” he says, “I can take it.”

Keith starts to move again, slow at first, but gaining speed, because god, he is aching to come, and Lance keeps practically purring in his ear.

“Yeah,” Lance says, voice breathy, “yeah, that’s it, Keith, come on. I’ve got you. Come for me, _querido._ ”

Keith’s brain short circuits. He’s conscious of making some sort of noise, but he has no idea what it is. He can vaguely hear Lance cooing at him in Spanish, but there’s a roaring in his ears. Lance is kissing him now, insistently, and Keith kisses back as well as he can.

“Hey,” Lance says, when he pulls away.

“Hi,” Keith replies, his voice deeper than he remembers it.

“I think I need a shower.” Lance says, making a face at the mess. “Wanna come?”

Keith thinks for a beat, then says, “It’ll be better if we conserve water by showering together.”

Lance laughs. “Sure. Just keep telling yourself that,” he says.

Keith slowly pulls out, though Lance still winces a little in discomfort despite Keith’s best efforts.

“Ugh.” Lance grumbles as he gets to his feet. “I should not have encouraged you. My ass feels terrible.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “I did warn you.” He ties off the condom and throws it in Lance’s trashcan. He does his best to clean off his chest with Lance’s sheets. Lance is going to have to wash them again.

“Whatever. It was worth it for your face just now.” Lance says, grinning wide.

“Shut up,” Keith says, “I’m sure the face you made was better.”

“No way dude. You looked like you were having a religious experience. My ass was your god, Keith.”

“I liked it better when you were muttering in Spanish and I couldn’t understand you,” Keith says.

“You like it when I speak to you in Spanish,” Lance says smugly, waggling his eyebrows. “It’s a _romance_ language.”

“God, how did I fall in love with such an idiot,” Keith grumbles, shaking his head. Then his own words sink in and he freezes. Shit. How could he have let this happen? It’s bad enough that he loves Lance, but to say it out loud, with Lance _right here_ , is disastrous. He can’t look at Lance. He doesn’t know what expression Lance has on his face right now, but it won’t be a good one. Keith scrambles for his clothes. Numerous drills and actual Galra attacks have made Keith lightening fast at donning his clothing.

He’s shoving his feet into his boots when Lance says, “Keith?” His voice is the most timid and unsure Keith has ever heard it. “W-What’s--where are you going?”

“I have to go,” says Keith, desperately, nearly face planting in his haste to put on his last boot.

“It's okay, Keith, it's fine. I mean, we’ll just forget you said that, if it makes you feel better.”

“It won't!” Keith snaps, hating every cell in his body. There's no going back now. Lance knows the truth and that means it has to be over between them. Lance is offering to forget Keith’s confession, but you don't forget something like that. It's going to ruin everything.

“Keith, _cariño,_ talk to me. Are you okay?”

“No,” Keith moans, his chest tight. He's finding it hard to breathe suddenly. Is the air in the room thinning? "I can't do it anymore. I'm done."  
  
"Woah, woah, woah, what? Keith, buddy, w-what do you mean? Did I do something? Tell me I fucked up and I'll fix it okay?" Lance's look of concern is awful. His bright blue eyes are soft and gentle and Keith wants nothing more than to kiss him, to take the words back, but he has to resist. It's better this way. “I don't know what I did, but if you're angry with me, I'm sorry, and I'll do whatever you want to make it better. We can tell the others, if that's what's bothering you. Or, are we moving too fast? We can slow down, I--”

  
"I'm sorry," Keith blurts, unable to hear anymore of Lance’s desperate begging. “I just can't do this. This wasn't supposed to happen.” He swallows hard, trying to ignore the film of tears blurring his vision. "I wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. I should have never agreed to do this...thing with you in the first place."  
  
Lance sucks in a breath, like he's just been sucker punched in the gut, and Keith meets his wide eyes for a moment before he turns and runs away. Like a coward.  
  
His traitorous heart is aching and he keeps hoping, stupidly, that Lance will come after him. But as hard as he strains his hearing, he can't hear rapid footsteps approaching. He bites his fist at hard to keep from crying and flees.  
  
\--  
  
Keith is being childish. He knows it and so does everyone else. But he can't help it. He already can’t stop thinking about Lance, missing him. It will be worse if he has to interact with him throughout the day, even just sharing meals and passing him in the hallways. Keith can’t do it right now. He will be able to do it, he promises himself, but right in this moment, the hurt is too fresh.  
  
Of course, it's immediately obvious to everyone that something happened when Keith refuses to leave his room. When you live in close proximity with six other people, secrets, especially one this big, are impossible to keep. No doubt Lance is out of sorts too, or at least, Keith hopes he is and then hates himself for hoping Lance is in pain.

Keith wishes, for the first time in a long time, that he was back on Earth, on his own, living by himself. All he wants is to be left alone because if he could just get his stupid grieving over with and process this properly, he'll be fine again. But he _can’t_ because everyone won't let this go and one by one they invade his room in an attempt to fix things.  
  
"Keith, please talk to me. Tell me what happened between you and Lance," Shiro says, his voice low and kind, but Keith just shakes his head and Shiro, having said that he wouldn't force Keith to talk to him, sighs and slips out.  
  
"You're both being ridiculous," snaps Pidge, "If you'd just talk to each other, you'd clear up your stupid lover's spat already." Keith just ignores Pidge until they storm out in disgust, muttering under their breath.  
  
"Hey um. I really think you guys would feel better if you, you know, talked it out, like buddies? Because you and Lance are friends! Right?" Hunk's trying to be kind and understanding but Keith snaps at him and chases him out of the room. Keith feels terrible and beats himself up about it for hours afterwards.  
  
"You're better off speaking to him," Coran says, shaking your head. "Take it from me, drawing this out and not communicating with Lance will only make things harder." Keith gives him a look. "Well, they can't say I didn't try," Coran says and high tails it out of the room.  
  
Finally, as a last resort, they send in Allura. Keith has to admit, he's a little intimidated by the princess. He wants to avoid earning her wrath if he can.  
  
"Keith," she says, sweetly, but Keith knows that gentle tone can disappear in an instant. "May I sit?" She pats the spot next to Keith at the edge of his bed.  
  
Keith nods, albeit reluctantly.  
  
She smiles, sits, and then takes a moment to adjust her skirts before she meets Keith's eye. "Keith, did Lance hurt you?"  
  
"I--" Keith starts, then falters. That hadn't been what he'd expected her to say. “No!" says Keith, vehemently. “No he didn't hurt me.”

"You know," she says, "since you haven't been leaving your room you might not know this, but Lance started crying over dinner last night, and all we could get out of him was that he must have hurt you, somehow. He thinks you hate him, Keith."  
  
"No!" Keith blurts, then conscious of how loud he'd shouted, hunches his shoulders and lowers his voice. "No. It's not his fault. It's mine."  
  
"Regardless of who is at fault, you need to speak with him Keith. We can't form Voltron with two of our Paladins out of commission like this." God he hates Allura and her tendency to make sense. If the Galra attacked or they received an SOS signal right now, it would be disastrous.  
  
"I understand," Keith says.  
  
"I know you do," Allura says, smiling gently. "Go talk to him Keith."

\--  
Keith has never thought much before doing things. He’s always relied upon his instincts to keep him safe. Stopping to think slows you down and if you’re slow, you’re dead or someone you care about is dead and Keith can’t have that. Yet, he’s been doing so much thinking when it comes to Lance. He can’t _stop_ thinking.

Lance is so predictable; he’s always been that way. Keith knows when he’s going to crack a stupid joke, when he’s going to flirt with an attractive alien girl, when he’s really missing home. It’s always obvious; Lance is an open book, and frankly, embarrassingly easy to read. But Keith has no idea how Lance is going to react to this.

Keith said he loved Lance to Lance’s face. And he does, he’ll stand by that, but. That’s huge. And for all the time they spend together, Keith hasn’t had too many serious conversations with Lance beyond the usual “missing Earth” and “don’t be stupid you could have died” conversations. Lance is always the one to take a serious situation and make some sort of wisecrack. But somehow, Keith doesn’t think Lance is going to be joking about this.

He swallows and just breathes for a moment outside of Lance’s door. His hands are sweating in his gloves. His heart is hammering in his chest the way it normally does when he’s battling the gladiator on a high setting or when he’s actually in the heat of battle. This is ridiculous and stupid. He knocks on the door.

There’s a pause, and it’s long enough that Keith starts to wonder if Lance is even in his room, before he hears Lance’s voice, muffled, through the door. “Hunk, bud, I don’t want any food, okay? I’m not starving myself, before you say it. I’m just not hungry right now, okay?”

Keith closes his eyes and takes another steadying breath. He still has time to pretend he’s someone else and leave. But that’s the coward’s way out, and he’s done with that. “Lance? It’s me. Open up.”

There’s a loud thump on the other end of the door. “Keith?!”

“Who else? Now open the door.” Keith says, crossing his arms impatiently. “We need to talk.”

The door slides open and Lance is immediately in Keith’s space, shoving his pointer finger into Keith’s chest. “Oh, now we need to talk? After you drop a bombshell on me and just disappear to be all Moody McAngsterton in your room for days?”

“Look, I’m sorry, okay, but it couldn’t be helped.”

“What, no, you can’t just--Keith, breaking up with me while telling me you didn’t mean to fall in love with me and regret basically everything is not ‘it couldn’t be helped’ kind of stuff, okay! I--I really---Ugh, forget it!” Lance throws his hands in the air, but somehow the gesture isn’t too dramatic. “Fine! Just. If you want to break up with me, then I won’t stop you. I just want to know...why.” His voice is quiet, _hurt._ Fuck.

“Lance,” Keith says, softly. “I don’t think it’s called breaking up when you were never dating.”

“Oh so that’s how it is,” Lance snaps. “So, what, you were just pretending all this time? Har har, really funny joke to play on Lance, to pretend to be his boyfriend and that you give a shit about him!” Keith has never seen Lance so angry. He’s pacing, so fast he’d probably be wearing a hole in the floor if it wasn’t metal. Despite the bitterness of his tone, there is moisture in his eyes. This is, by far, the worst moment of Keith’s life.

“¡Pensé....realmente pensé--mierda!” Lance says, and though Keith doesn’t understand, he can tell Lance is upset and it’s his fault.

“Lance,” Keith says, as gently as he can, “I don’t understand. Did I give you the wrong impression somehow? We were never...we had an arrangement. It was only about sex, obviously, because that would allow you to date alien girls and gush about Allura and all that. And I--I wanted more than that, and I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t help it. You’re just so.” Keith runs his hands through his hair, frustrated he can think of a word. “You.”

Keith isn’t exactly sure what he’s just said really, because he blurted it out in a blur, but Lance seems to have calmed, which is all he wanted. Now, however, he just seems confused. “Wait, wait. Keith, what are you talking about? You and me? We’re dating. Or we were. That’s why I told you I _like_ like you months ago.”

“What? I thought you meant you _like_ liked me in a sexual way?”

Lance bursts into laughter. “What the hell dude! Did you not go to kindergarten or something? _Like_ like is when, you know, you keep stealing my crayons but I’m going to let you sit next to me on the big tire swing anyway. I mean, I’m not going to lie, I am definitely into you in a sexual way like woah, but uh, there’s more to it than that, for me.”

“Um.” Keith says, blinking. Lance metaphors are impossible to parse.

“It means I asked you out stupid!”

It takes Keith a moment to parse this. Then he starts forward and Lance, looking alarmed, takes a step back. “What?!” Keith demands, “That was supposed to be a confession? How the hell was I supposed to know?”

“I kissed you! Like, immediately after I said that. And you kissed back!”

“What was I supposed to do? Not kiss you back?”

“Yes! Er, no! But by doing that you screwed things up! You made it seem like you wanted to date me too.” Lance says, dropping his chin and turning his gaze stubbornly away from Keith’s.

“I do!” Keith blurts, feeling frustrated and confused, two emotions he especially loathes when he feels them at the same time.

“Y-You do?” Lance stammers, eyes wide.

“Yes!” Keith snaps, “That’s the whole problem Lance!”

“That,” says Lance, grinning, “is the opposite of a problem.” He opens his arms. “Come here, Keith.”

Keith eyes Lance’s open arms. He doesn’t understand.

“It’s not a trap, you idiot. Just get over here. _Por favor, querido_ _._ ”

Keith is weak. He steps into Lance’s arms, unable to resist him, and Lance wraps his arms around him and hugs him close.

“I’m sorry,” Lance says, quietly, his breath ghosting against Keith’s ear. “All this time, I thought you understood. Did you really think I was the kind of asshole that would lead you on like that?”

Keith shook his head. “I didn’t think you were doing it purposefully. But, I still don’t understand. You like Allura and practically every female alien we encounter. You lose your head over them like a complete idiot. Was that all an act?”

Lance shrugs, which is an awkward gesture when you’re hugging someone, not that Lance seems to have noticed. “Uh, sort of? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I am attracted to women. But I’m attracted to you too. And when I first started developing a crush on you, I may have been freaking out and overcompensating by flirting extra hard with the ladies. A bit.” He flushes, looking sheepish, then shakes his head. “But Keith, I haven’t flirted with anyone else since we started dating. Or at least, when I thought we started dating.”

Keith frowns, trying to think back. When _was_ the last time he’d seen Lance hanging off a girl’s arm and practically drooling over her? Not lately. He’d been so consumed by his own jealousy that every interaction Lance has had with a woman has seemed romantic, but now that Keith is thinking clearly, Lance hadn’t been flirting at all.

“Oh,” is Keith’s intelligent response. “But what about the team? You never wanted to show physical affection around them!”

“Because I wanted it to be between the two of us for at least a little while. Once they find out, you know they’re never going to stop ribbing us.”

Keith grins. “Yeah. Probably true.” He shakes his head. “Wow, I’ve been really stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” says Lance, laughing a little, “Okay, no that’s a lie, you are kind of dumb sometimes.”

Keith kisses him on his stupid smirking mouth and Lance grins against his lips.

“So,” Lance says, smugly, “Can I take this as an indication that you _like_ like me back?”

“You’re an idiot,” Keith grumbles, but kisses Lance again. And again. And again.

“So um. You don't hate my guts?” Lance says, quietly, still somehow unsure.

“Idiot. Of course I don't. I already told you how I feel about you.”

“Yeah, and then you took it back right away!”

“I. It was true I didn't mean to fall in love with you. I didn't lie when I said that. It was an accident. But that doesn't mean I regret it.”

Lance freezes and his face turns an alarming shade of red.

“Lance?” Keith asks, concerned. “Are you...alright?”

“Alright? _Alright?_ You-you just-” Lance splutters, eyes wide. “You can't just say stuff like that!”

“Like what, I love you?”

Lance flails. “Yes! How the hell can you even say that so easily?”

Keith frowns in confusion. “Because it's true?”

“Oh my god,” Lance moans, “you're going to kill me. Come here.” He practically drags Keith into his room, shuts the door, and proceeds to kiss Keith until Keith’s head is spinning from oxygen deprivation.

“There,” Lance pants, out of breath, “that’ll stop you. You smooth asshole.”

Keith giggles, a little hysterically.

Lance looks at him with horror. “ _Ay, dios mío_ , what have I created? Keith, you're not allowed to laugh. Or tell me you love me. Or look at me all earnest and sweet. Okay?”

“Um.” For a moment, Keith honestly can't tell if Lance is joking or in earnest. “Why?”

“If you do any of those things,” Lance says seriously, “I will die. Like dead, bam, _adiós_ Lance.”

Keith rolls his eyes. “You won't die stupid, that's not possible.”

“It's possible and it's going to happen!” Lance says, “So there!”

“You're ridiculous,” says Keith, but he can't keep the fondness from leaking into his tone. “But I think I'll keep you around.”

“Yeah?” says Lance, hopeful, his bright blue eyes meeting Keith’s.

Keith smiles. “Yeah.”

Because Keith’s heart is greedy. And once it has a taste, it wants more.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, if you enjoyed, feel free to come and scream about klance with me on my twitter @kags_tobes!
> 
> The Spanish (which showcases my love for Lance's love for pet names)  
> dios mío-my god  
> ven aquí, cariño-come here, darling  
> ¡Por favor no mas!-Please, no more!  
> ¡Alguien ayúdeme!-Someone help me!  
> sí, sí, sí-yes, yes yes  
> Más, por favor, dame más!-More, please, give me more!  
> Dios-God  
> querido-dear/darling  
> cariño-darling  
> ¡Pensé....realmente pensé--mierda!-I thought....I really thought--shit!  
> Por favor, querido--please darling  
> Ay, dios mío-Oh my god/Oh lord  
> adios-goodbye


End file.
